Sometimes people make up words. Don't worry, I do not condem this, sometimes I innovate, create or add to the pitiful modern form of the English language myself. I've thrown a "confanglment", "naristica" and I'm pretty sure I made up the word "cool" before it was bastardized and clubbed with the ugly stick of L33T to its current "kewl" form. In any event, there is no excuse for just being stupid.

As of late, I've heard the (not so real) adjective "Addicting". To use it in a sentence as an example we're looking at: "Justin Timberlake's music is addicting to bulemics, because it saves them alot of work." or "Trying to eat as many bran muffins as possible in an attempt to get full before the fibre kicks in is addicting, because you never win and you never lose.". These sentence do have a certain ring to them, that ring however is the grammer alarm saying "Sweet mericiful mustard! I'll never top a hotdog again!" That ringing drives me to the point to if you should utter the word "addicting" in my prescence(, whether you know every mirror is actually a one way window I can see out of, which the exception of creepy places like bathrooms, that I don't want to see) I'll jump you and stroke your tongue down with a cheese grater and feed you the flakes. Gross right? Not done yet. When those flakes reach your stomach, the taste buds reacting to the bile will be the distainful taste that Im ust reconcil with every time the word "addicting" is used. Now perhaps humbled, you understand. Also I just plain don't like the word "plain", it rhymes too much but is still orthadox. But I won't hold that against you.

Some lives run parallel, never crossing paths, even at a tangent. To be as close as two rivers running but a stone toss away from another, but running to other lakes. Some say it's fate or destiny, other say it's a matter of coincidence, but one thing is certain; when live collide, they cause a ripple as in a pond, and as the lives connect, so do all of lives of previous circumstance. As the ripple becomes a web, more and more lives are tangled, more and more collisions are born, and so fate sees it fit to play its part. So some lives run parallel to a point, but to which point? Is it all a matter of fate and destiny? May be so, but who can resist a chance to screw with fate.

 

 I think I ODed on All Bran. Apparently you get 48% of your fibre intake in half a bowl, so the two I yesterday morning, plus the one before bed has made me so regular that I started playing online poker and have the urge to learn to play guitar. On the Brightside, the frequency of my visits to the urination chamber has allowed me to divulge into the mystical writing of the stale walls. I mean that’s some quality work up there, excellent rhyme schemes, words I can only discover the true meaning to on urbandictionary.com, and the revelation that no matter how old we get, we still write childish things on the wall. With this in mind I can only gleefully imagine what STU’s campus washrooms have to offer, I wonder if they’ll allow me to cross the picket line for a visit.... but I digress.

 I think it’s obvious that if cereal can do this to me, I should be eating Frosted Flakes because [A] Kellogg’s Kicks ass (*shameless plug puts my bank account ahead $40), and [B] A Tiger who can kick a bunch of kids asses at sports is stellar. I mean come one, lets’ face it, how many times have you walked by a kids sporting event and wanted to run in and slam dunk or score a goal, eleven-de-billion times you say? Damn right.

Recently I’ve been looking into getting my daughter baptised, as far as I can see it there is really no downside. I mean baptism is the Roman Catholic flu shot for hell. So long as you get your immunization shot (a confirmation once a decade) you’re good to do whatever you damn well please. I think that’s actually a recruiting quote from one of the campaign pamphlets for joining up with the church.... that and something about peace of mind and free wine...

                 I tried to apply for childcare leave the other day, and that was quite the adventure. This is the basic run down: I’m poor, poor as sin, so poor I couldn’t afford a book for a journal so I had to do it on the internet. So to apply for employment insurance benefits you have to quit your job. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the point that I need money, and wouldn’t not going  to work further my dilemma? Then, after I’ve left stable employment, they see if I qualify. So at this point it’d be out of a job, with no income coming in, hoping that I can receive benefits. So after I find out if I receive benefits, they must calculate it, which requires the awkward step of going to my work to get paper work filled out so the government can give me less then I deserve. Then I have to wait income less for my first subpar check to come in so I can properly gauge how screwed I am. Now because this didn’t make much sense, I went to talk to an E.I. officer (by the way, bad ass name to disguise the fact you’re a social worker, and you don't have a gun, you’re union knows what they’re doing). I asked if there were any steps I could skip to get the process going faster. She offered me a 5 second summary, which in retrospect should have been a clue in for me. I said sure, received a knee to the groin, punch to the throat and $15 cash. Ok, may be the last part is a lie, but it could still happen.